Eloy rolls his eyes. “It's not my fault you didn't tell the truth. Besides, Galyna and I have a lead on that missing sprite to follow up on. It’s more Fontenot fuckery, so we’ll be checking out the warehouses we didn’t get to when we were rescuing your beloved.”
The sprite’s parents aren’t rich, but we decided long ago that money wouldn’t be our only motivator. Doesn’t mean Eloy’s not an asshole.
I snarl, turning to go back to my room.
“Okay, fine. You big baby. You’re right about one thing—you do need backup.”
“Never mind, I don’t need jack shit from you,” I toss over my shoulder.
“Whatever. You have no clue how to act around rich people.”
“Oh yeah?” I growl, reversing course to round on him. “How do you know how to act around rich people?”
“Doesn't matter.”
“You know what? Fine. Keep your secrets.”
We get in the car, and during the ride over, he catches me up on how people from the right side of the tracks do it. I retain exactly zero information. Pretty sure this is going to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions, so I don’t care if I step on a few elite toes, as long as it ends up with my mate back in my arms.
By the time we arrive, I can smell Remy from the driveway.
Yeah, I fucked up. Big time.
8
Remy
Making my way in through the backdoor, I’m surprised that my key still works.
“Remy! You're here!”
“Hi, Miss Stevie,” I say, giving our cook a big hug.
“I’m so happy to see you,” she says, nearly squeezing the life out of me. “They in there talking to your boyfriend.”
Lazare’s here?
I shake my head. Stupid.
“You mean Damian?”
She nods. I quickly explain what he did to me, and her face turns a scary shade of red as she picks up the cast iron skillet. “Why that worthless—”
I touch her hand. “We don’t kill people just because they’re dickheads.”
Her eyes widen at my language, and she shakes her head, unhappy with this turn of events. “Well then, what would you have me do?”
“Call the police.”
Grumbling, she does as I ask, and I wait in the kitchen with her, knowing there's no danger of anyone coming in here while the help is working.
A few minutes later, there's a knock at the front door. Anticipating the police, my stomach lurches at the familiar deep rumble.
“What did you do with him?”
The voice of my mate reverberates throughout the house, and my heart nearly comes alive at the sound of it.
He’s not my mate.He's just a piece of shit with some fancy magic work, and he’s still got the audacity to try to strip money directly from my family’s hands.
